


Cranberries and Ginger Beer

by AteYellowPaint



Series: Holidaze [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Early Queen, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, No angst in sight, Pre-Slash, holiday party, literally all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28078728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteYellowPaint/pseuds/AteYellowPaint
Summary: "Roger cursed under his breath as he picked at the knot in the ribbon. Freddie had hung it up for Roger’s annual Christmas party and the cheeky git seemed to make damn sure it wouldn’t come down. That was too bad, though, because Roger needed it for something very important."- or -Roger wants a kiss. And he has the perfect plan to get it.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: Holidaze [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056992
Comments: 20
Kudos: 38





	Cranberries and Ginger Beer

**December, 1972**

Roger was a man on a mission.

The Christmas music and party goers twinkled on in the background as Roger balanced precariously on his wooden dining chair; he had one hand gripped on the door frame to his kitchen while he wrestled with the mistletoe hanging in the archway. He might have had an easier time with the task were he not already three glasses of wine deep.

Roger cursed under his breath as he picked at the knot in the ribbon. Freddie had hung it up for Roger’s annual Christmas party and the cheeky git seemed to make damn sure it wouldn’t come down. That was too bad, though, because Roger needed it for something very important.

Finally, the knot began to give. Roger smiled and focused his eyes as best he could on the silky red ribbon. With one final tug, the ribbon unwound and the mistletoe was freed from the nail.

“Thanking you,” Roger muttered to the mistletoe as he hopped off the chair.

Roger clumsily pushed the chair to the side and surveyed the room. He spotted Freddie first. He was cozied up on the couch next to Mary, laughing with some of his art school friends. He gesticulated wildly - his punch sloshing dangerously in the glass - as he narrated some grand story much to the delight of those around him. It was likely a story Roger had heard a thousand times before, but one he would be happy to hear a thousand times more as Freddie always found ways to make each iteration as fresh and enthralling as the last.

Roger made his way over and silently perched on the arm of the couch. He leaned up against Freddie to make his presence known before holding the mistletoe above Freddie and Mary’s heads.

“Darling,” Freddie said, interrupting his story to look up at Roger. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m holding mistletoe above your head,” Roger stated the obvious and shook the bundle for emphasis.

“I see that,” Freddie said, pulling a face for the benefit of his friends. “But why?”

Roger shrugged his shoulders. “Thought the party needed a little more spice.”

Mary snorted a laugh. “Spice?”

“That’s right, love,” Roger said with a wink before giving Freddie’s shoulder a playful shove. “Come on, Fred; mack your girlfriend. It’s the rules.”

Freddie pursed his lips against a smile and rolled his eyes in Roger’s direction before he turned to Mary and gave her a quick peck. Roger couldn’t help but tease them with little cooing sounds, which rightfully earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs from Freddie.

Satisfied, he left the lovebirds alone and looked around for his next victim. Across the way, next to the drinks table, Roger saw Brian having a chat with a redhead he vaguely recognized from uni. 

Roger strolled over, swinging the mistletoe around his finger by the ribbon. He didn’t even try to hide his intentions when they looked his way and he blatantly ignored Brian’s dirty look when he caught sight of what Roger was holding.

“Roger…” Brian said when Roger leaned a hand against the table and held the mistletoe over Brian and the girl’s heads. Well -- it didn’t quite make it above Brian’s head, but he did his best.

“What?” Roger said innocently.

“What are you doing?”

“Christ, does no one around here understand how mistletoe works?” Roger exclaimed.

“Are you some kind of Christmas Cupid or something?” the girl asked.

“Christmas Cupid!” Roger laughed. “I guess you can call me that.”

He flashed his best winning smile when the girl laughed.

“Now go on,” Roger said, nodding his head towards Brian. “I promise he doesn’t bite.”

“And how would you know?” the girl said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Unfortunately, I wouldn’t,” Roger said before leaning in conspiratorially. “But maybe you can find out for me.”

The girl leaned back with a smile and turned to Brian. The poor guy was red in the face with either embarrassment or rage, Roger couldn’t tell. Either way, he suspected Brian would forgive him; especially since the girl seemed endeared by it all and reached up to give him a smacking kiss.

Roger couldn’t help but feel smug about the whole thing.

“You’re welcome, mate,” Roger said quietly in Brian’s ear. He chuckled when Brian flipped him off without breaking the kiss, but happily took the hint and let them at it.

Roger went around to a few more couples after that until he was absolutely positive he had guaranteed at least one couple was going to shag that night. Some were shy and giggly, others a bit begrudging, and one couple even ending up snogging before Roger had a chance to stumble away.

Finally, once he made it around to enough people to plausibly justify his little scheme, Roger spotted his true target.

Half-hidden behind the Christmas tree, John leaned against the wall, observing the party with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. He swayed his head along to the warm rendition of  _ Blue Christmas _ drifting through the radio, making his hair move in pretty waves over his midnight-blue velvet turtleneck. He tapped his thumbs along to the beat on the rim of his punch glass. He trailed his eyes across the room and when he landed on Roger, his hazy smile grew even wider.

Roger couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. He quickly hid the mistletoe behind his back and let his feet carry him across the room. Once he sidled up next to John he leaned against the wall, tapping a nervous rhythm behind the small of his back with his knuckles.

“So, tell me. Do you think Brian is going to do the decent thing and have a shag in the bathroom,” Roger said, nodding his head to where Brian was sucking the face off of the pretty redhead. “Or do you reckon he’s gonna do it in my bed?”

“Oh, definitely your bed,” John said with a laugh. “He’s still pissed at you for that stunt you pulled at our last gig.”

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t know when to end a bloody guitar solo.”

“He was a bit excessive that night, wasn’t he?” John said.

“I’ll say,” Roger muttered, a certain warmth filling up his chest at John’s endorsement.

He turned towards John, leaning his shoulder against the wall, and watched as he smiled into his drink, a little laugh playing on his lips born of alcohol and mirth. And, God, he looked pretty. He was always pretty, but right now, with the warm white lights of the Christmas tree outlining his profile in an angelic aura, John looked nothing short of heaven-sent.

John closed his eyes, his eyelashes fanning out on his cheeks as he tipped his head back and drained the last bit of deep red punch, the ice clinking back against his lips and Roger decided it was now or never. Before he could chicken out - like he did on so many other occasions - he took his hand from behind his back and raised it above their heads.

Roger’s heart pounded in his ears and drowned out the music and revelry around them as he watched John lift his eyes from his drink and slowly follow his arm up to the little green bundle of leaves dangling from the end of the red ribbon wrapped around Roger’s finger. John’s eyes widened and his rosy cheeks bloomed a deeper shade of pink. Roger’s own face felt hot, and he was sure it only got worse when John looked back down to him.

“Rog, what is that?” John asked and looked up to the mistletoe again. Roger looked up as well and gasped like he just noticed it for the first time.

“It looks like we’re under the mistletoe,” Roger said with wide eyes.

“I wonder how it got there,” John said as angled himself towards Roger.

“I have  _ no _ clue,” Roger said.

John giggled and brought his hand up to his mouth; his long fingers gracefully played over his lips and Roger’s heart fluttered. “Is that so?”

“Yes, but now that we’re here…” Roger trailed off and pressed himself just a little bit closer to John. No backing out now. “Tradition is tradition.”

John flicked his eyes down to Roger’s lips. Roger held his breath. He didn’t dare move a muscle as John looked up at the mistletoe one more time. And when John looked back into Roger’s eyes, the entire world stopped on its axis.

“Can’t break tradition, can we?” John almost whispered.

Roger brought his free hand up to tuck John’s hair behind his ear, letting it come to rest on John’s cheek. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth as John moved fractionally closer. By the time Roger hummed in agreement, he could feel the soft puffs of John’s breath against his lips.

In the end, John was the one who finally closed the gap between them, and Roger felt like he was twinkling, light dancing over his skin, bubbly and free. Roger had meant to be serious about it, he really did, but after a few short seconds, they couldn’t stop giggling against each other’s lips.

John broke the kiss, but he didn’t stray far. Roger stroked John’s cheek with his thumb and pressed his lips together to try and stop them tingling. John pulled away some more and looked up to find Roger was still holding the mistletoe above their heads.

“It’s still there.” John looked at him with that little hint of mischief that Roger had grown so fond of over the last two years.

“Funny that,” Roger murmured, already leaning in to capture John’s lips again.

As soon as their lips met, Roger brought his arm down to wrap around John’s neck and pull him in close. John grabbed his hip and Roger felt a little spark when John’s thumb grazed his bare skin where his shirt had ridden up. He felt the cold glass of John’s drink against his back and jumped a little at the sensation.

“Sorry.” John giggled against Roger’s lips and pulled his arm away.

“It’s okay.” Roger grabbed John’s arm to put it back around himself, the cold glass be damned. In response, John held him tighter.

John’s lips were soft against his, moving with a certain shyness that contrasted with their desperate embrace. Tentatively, Roger ran his tongue along John’s bottom lip. He felt John’s grip tighten on his hip and for a moment he believed he might have gone a step too far. Then, John moved his hand from Roger’s hip and tangled it in Roger’s hair and parted his lips with a dizzying urgency. Light buzzed beneath Roger’s skin like a Christmas tree during a power surge and he eagerly licked into John’s mouth.

John tasted of cranberries and ginger beer. After all was said and done, that was what would linger on his mind for days afterwards. The tartness and snappiness of the fruit and alcohol danced on Roger’s tongue in a perfect, intoxicating symphony as Roger took everything John gave him. He swirled his tongue around John’s, desperate for more.

Roger never wanted it to end. After two years of secret glances and careful flirting and innocent touches that lasted a hair longer than necessary, he wanted to stay wrapped up in John forever. But eventually, they had to pull away. Roger rested his forehead against John’s as he caught his breath, just little catches as his heart refused to slow down.

He felt John’s hold on him loosen and Roger sank back down onto his heels - he hadn’t even realized he was standing on his toes. He really was a lovesick fool. He released his hold around John’s neck and ran his hands down John’s arms, enjoying the soft slide of the velvet against his rough palms.

Roger finally pulled away and a small laugh escaped his body when he caught sight of John’s pink, swollen lips. It was a good look on him, especially since Roger was the reason for it. Roger looked back up into John’s eyes, hooded and dazed, and let himself run his hand through John’s hair once more.

“Happy Christmas,” Roger whispered.

***

Roger stood at the drinks table and ladled himself some cranberry punch. He leaned against the wall and made no attempt to hide the fact that he was blatantly staring at John.

He couldn’t help it. John was on the couch now, talking with Mary. He sat quietly with an open expression, the kind that made people comfortable to monologue on, even if John never said much in return. And that’s just what Mary did. She talked excitedly about something while John nodded along encouragingly and fiddled with the rings on his fingers.

It was the same way John had lured him in. Roger, never one for silence, had found himself going on and on about the stupidest things when he first met John, just to fill the space his new bandmate seemed happy to leave in the air.

But soon, without even realizing it, Roger had found himself talking about other things; like how he felt that Brian and Freddie didn’t take him seriously sometimes, or how he wished writing lyrics came easier to him, or how deep down he was terrified of what would happen if the band didn’t make it. John always let him talk - or rant, or complain - happily listening and contributing a sardonic quip to make Roger laugh just when Roger needed it the most. And before he knew it, his quiet bandmate had firmly lodged himself right in Roger’s heart.

The bastard was sneaky, he’d give him that. Sneaky and charming and Roger was hopelessly gone for him.

“‘Party needed more spice’ my arse.”

Roger nearly jumped off the wall when Freddie’s voice appeared beside him. He looked to see Freddie hiding a grin behind his drink.

“Couldn’t give away my hand, now could I?” Roger said once he recovered.

Freddie chuckled. “There are easier ways to ask him out, you know.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed. Just then, John broke his gaze from Mary. He caught eyes with Roger and smiled softly at him. Roger winked in return, a certain thrill running through him when John immediately blushed the loveliest shade of pink. “But they’re not as fun as this.”

“You two are going to be the death of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! So this fic started as a way to get into the holiday spirit and ended up as the first installment in a little series that explores John and Roger's relationship milestones through holiday snapshots. The next one will be a New Year's Eve fic!
> 
> I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it <3 And I know things aren't The Greatest right now, but I'm sending you some good vibes and holiday cheer!


End file.
